


Mirrors of Silent Rain

by Meysun



Series: No More, No Less [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Force Exhaustion (Star Wars), Friendship, Heartbreak, Hopeful Ending, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Post-Episode: s04e15 Deception, Protective CC-2224 | Cody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:28:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27516865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meysun/pseuds/Meysun
Summary: Set after the Deception arc, where Obi-Wan went undercover as Rako Hardeen to unveil a plot against the Chancellor, faking his own death. His friends, especially Duchess Satine, have a hard time forgiving him. Having pushed Obi-Wan away, Satine finally meets him again in the Chancellor's office, along with Padmé, Bail and a furious Anakin. And realises something seems broken - yet hope is a stubborn and beautiful thing.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Bail Organa, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: No More, No Less [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002441
Comments: 31
Kudos: 171





	Mirrors of Silent Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AssassinOfRome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssassinOfRome/gifts).



> Hello dear ones, writing Obi and Satine for "Towards The Light" inspired me writing this little post-Rako-Hardeen piece... I really liked this arc and the writing material it offers - basically, it offers such a fantastic dive into what Jedi can be forced to do for duty - something close friends might find a hard time understanding, when Clones or fellow-soldiers do. This angsty story is dedicated to my friend AssassinOfRome - because her words always bring me so much joy and because her reviews always inspire me. I hope she - and all of you - will like this bit as well, I promise to turn back to my other story Storms On Pijal as soon as possible.
> 
> I send you all so much love and hope you are well! Take care, Meysun.

When Satine sees him again, the first time _after_ , his hair is short and his beard mere stubble. He looks so much younger, he looks like the soft, reflective and silent boy she fell in love with on Draboon.

But that boy has become a man, has learnt to deceive, and there is steel beneath the gentle grey in his eyes. There is a General behind her Jedi now, and Satine does not recognise him anymore.

She tells him so, once they are alone – because Obi-Wan was still brave and truthful enough to meet her, as soon as he could. Yet it feels too late for her, and Satine tells him, if only to see whether solely steel remains within those eyes she loved, and because it is true.

“I understand.”

The words are so soft. There is not an inch of steel or coldness in her Jedi’s voice. He stands there, wrapped in that brown, shapeless robe that makes him look like some sort of sainted figure, but Obi-Wan is no saint. He used her tears, and his former Apprentice’s, and his Grand-Padawan’s, and Satine tells him.

Obi-Wan just stands there, still and quiet. There are no tears in those grey eyes, yet it seems to her that instead of spilling, his orbs are hollowing out, until they look like fragile, rain-like glass.

She tells him she mourned him. That her world felt bereft, but that she had begun to try and overcome her loss, thinking he would have wanted her to go on. Drawing strength from his memory, from the essence of what he _was_ , what he had embodied for her and for everyone who loved him.

But he was not gone, he merely _used_ them, and though she is relieved to see him there, to know he has not passed, she cannot be with him. She does not want it, and she tells him.

“I understand.”

Obi-Wan leaves her with those quiet words – but he bows, before, like the Jedi Master he is as well. And Satine feels something delicate and loving wrap itself around her very being, right before he turns away – and realises, seconds after Obi-Wan has left, that none of her words were true.

That she is the one who has turned to steel.

*

His beard has grown back, and so has his hair, when Satine’s eyes find him once more, several weeks afterwards. He looks taller and more impersonal on the Holonet, answering questions quietly. There is the battlefield of a city behind him, several people surrounding him – and she recognises his commander, in his white and golden armour, standing silently behind him.

Obi-Wan’s voice is soft, calm, and precise. There is something enchanting in watching him just _stand_ quietly – his robe pooling around him, limbs graceful and relaxed. His eyes are so clear – and it takes Satine a while, and a few replays of the short news-spot she soon knows by heart to notice that it is because his face is thinner, and his hair a tad darker than she remembered.

Obi-Wan’s smile never reaches his eyes, and at the end of the spot, when the camera switches to the city and the members of their government while the Jedi turns away, Satine notices the commander’s hand on Obi-Wan’s arm.

The spot ends there, and she will not know – if it was just a move of camaraderie, if her Jedi is hurt, if it was just a reflex, a careful commander steering his General away from the crowd…

She will not know, because they do not talk nor communicate anymore. Their frequency is mute, she is still on Mandalore and he not even on Coruscant.

Yet Satine cannot forget those soulful grey eyes that used to sparkle or soften and seem to have turned to dead mirrors.

She worries for him.

She misses him.

*

When they see each other again, it is in the Chancellor’s office. Her friends Bail and Padmé are there as well, and so is Anakin, who has become grim and thunderous, and stands a few feet away from his former Master.

Obi-Wan himself is composed and quiet, face chiselled like a marble statue. He smiles at them, and Satine feels his utter _goodness_ , but it is not solely for her. It is for Bail, for Padmé, for all of them – it is unobtrusive and fully given, and she is not even sure Obi-Wan is aware of it.

She studies him, from the corner of her eyes, as the Chancellor begins to talk – of the necessity to use Obi-Wan’s intel about the bounty-hunters’ network to try and dismantle the Separatists’ bases over the Galaxy.

Satine is there because she is the leader of the Neutral systems – because the Chancellor still hopes to win them to his cause, yet she will not budge. She will not drag Mandalore and all the systems who chose not to partake in the war into the Chancellor schemes.

Bail and Padmé are involved, however, and they question Obi-Wan, about the way bounty hunters purchase weapons and ships, about the systems helping them and the stratagems pulled to stay off-radar.

And Obi-Wan answers, calmly, sometimes even using that warm wit of his that used to make her smile and looks like nothing but deflection now – because _something_ has vanished from his presence.

He looks a bit pale, and when he bends on the holo-map spreading itself on the Chancellor’s desk, his fingers seem thin, but Obi-Wan is still as graceful and confident as ever, smart and competent and _utterly_ unreachable.

His former Apprentice is absolutely furious at him, though, and Satine does not need to be Force-sensitive to assess this. His comments are sharp, snarky, and after a while she notices the way Obi-Wan wraps his robe tighter around his frame, while Bail has begun to act like the buffer he embodies so well, softening Anakin’s remarks.

“Well, my dear Senators, Duchess and Jedi, I think we have achieved quite a few steps today”, the Chancellor says, long, webbed fingers meeting each other in that gesture he seems to favour. 

“I want to use the occasion to assure each one of you we would not have come as far without Master Kenobi’s precious help and involvement.”

Obi-Wan flinches, minutely, and Satine is not Force-sensitive, but she knows it is because something _flared_ , coming straight from Anakin. The young man’s eyes have turned to daggers and she can feel some anger herself, but she is not sure at whom it is directed – it might be Obi-Wan, but she suspects it might be the Chancellor himself, who has no idea what the true costs were.

“I am however very aware of the pain this… deception we were forced to use caused, Master Kenobi being, in truth, _irreplaceable_. Please allow me to apologize on the Republic’s behalf for that death that was thankfully nothing but a sham – and thank you all for your commitment.”

Padmé is frowning, Bail’s jaw is clenched, and Anakin’s face is closed off. Satine herself feels her hands tremble, but it is Obi-Wan who looks worst, face almost translucid under the costly lamps.

“No one is irreplaceable, Your Excellency.”

His voice is ragged but his words are firm. So are those he pushes out, quietly, avoiding everyone’s looks but the Chancellor’s.

“There was no choice there.”

Satine’s heart breaks then, because these are no words of humility. This is the truth, quietly yet defiantly laid bare – Palpatine knows it, and his eyes narrow, minutely, but he is not a Chancellor by accident, and is perfectly able to navigate around that cliff.

“The Republic is lucky to have you all, my dear friends”, Palpatine says, blandly, and with those words the meeting finally ends, and they all withdraw. 

“Anakin, my dear boy, might I just have a word?”

Obi-Wan’s face still has to regain some colour, and Satine sees him tense, minutely, but of course he does not stay, leaving Anakin with the Chancellor, following them all outside.

They are supposed to gather in Satine’s suite to set the next course of action, and technically the Jedi are only needed for advice – yet it is evident, though unspoken, that Obi-Wan is included in their reunion. One of Padmé’s maids and one of Satine’s guards meet them as soon as they are outside the Chancellor’s office, asking quietly for orders to set the rest of the day’s course.

Their steps are silent on the Senate’s thick, soft carpet and they walk on, until Bail stops abruptly, frowning.

“Where is Obi-Wan?”

He was just behind Satine mere moments ago, and they all turn, finding the corridor empty, pillars framing the walls like the bones of a huge, formidable creature.

“He _left_ ”, Padmé voices, somewhat incredulously, and hurt is evident in her brown eyes as she repeats: “He just left.”

This is not like Obi-Wan, though, and Bail voices Satine’s thought aloud, shaking his head.

“He wouldn’t do such a thing. Something is not right.”

And with these words, her tall Alderaanian friend turns, pacing the corridor back towards the Chancellor’s office – but there is no sign of Obi-Wan anywhere, and Satine feels something begin to hurt, deep behind her chest.

Bail, however, does not lose focus, dark eyes turned downwards as he pauses, still frowning, shaking his head. And then, very deliberately, he walks back once more, away from the Chancellor’s office, gaze drifting carefully towards the pillars and walls.

“Bail, what are you doing?”, Padmé asks, clearly puzzled.

“I’m looking for that one spot where my instinct will tell me there is _nothing at all_ ”, Bail answers, cryptically.

They simply follow him, watching him search, and after a while, Bail stops close to a pillar. There is nothing out of the ordinary, but their friend’s face sharpens as he crouches down.

“My mind is not clouded”, Bail says, quietly but firmly.

And after a while, like a shredded curtain, the lonely pillar shifts and wavers, and so do the scarlet carpet, the wooden walls – until the scene before them reveals a lonely pillar, a scarlet carpet, a wooden wall and a crumpled silhouette, curled up at the pillar’s base.

“Obi-Wan”, Satine whispers, and Bail’s hand move towards the unconscious Jedi’s face, gently tilting it away from his knees.

Obi-Wan’s eyes are closed, and his skin is so pale that Bail’s hand looks almost dark against his cheek. His hands are cold, clammy and lifeless, and when Bail lifts him, cradling him against his chest like a child, they all notice the way his brown robe’s back is dark with sweat.

“Let’s stay discreet”, Bail whispers, quietly, and Satine is glad that her guard and Padmé’s maid left them, quickly leading them to her suite, where they can stretch Obi-Wan on the couch.

Satine’s suite has many windows, and in the soft luminosity they are finally able to assess Obi-Wan’s state. Sweat is drying on his brow, and there are small, silvery tracks on his cheeks that alarm them even more.

He is not feverish, though, the med-droid fussing over him rather tells them his temperature is a bit low, and his blood pressure even lower. Lying down seem to help Obi-Wan’s colour, slowly returning to his cheeks, but their friend is still out cold, not even stirring when the med-droid draws blood from his finger, beeping quietly next to him.

“Very low sugar level”, the droid finally tuts, and his mechanic arms moves for Obi-Wan’s face, when suddenly the Jedi’s eyes open, grey and stormy and _terrified_.

The droid is pushed away, hitting the table with a crushing thud, and Obi-Wan _back-flips_ , around the couch and on his feet, until he stands facing them, hands raised in protection yet trembling slightly, features paper-white and eyes haunted.

“Not my face. Not my throat”, he rasps, and the delicate crystal animals on Satine’s shelves hover in the air like a glass menagerie, forming a small, derisory garland in front of him.

But then, Obi-Wan has always loved them, tracing their shapes with his finger whenever he had thought Satine was not looking.

“Obi. Dearest”, Satine whispers – and she does not care for Bail and Padmé hearing. They are his friends as well.

Obi-Wan blinks, and his eyes switch from the crystal birds to her face, hands still raised but drooping slightly – and after what seems endless minutes the small menagerie flows back to the shelves and Obi’s arms drop, leaving him standing there, swaying slightly and so, so lonely.

“Obi-Wan, perhaps you should sit down”, Bail says, quietly, but Obi shakes his head, minutely, breathing fast yet obviously trying to calm himself.

His commlink springs to life, startling everyone save Obi-Wan, who just stares at the small holo-figure appearing above his forearm, shoulders squaring reflexively.

“Commander Cody, sir. Reporting as instructed, General. Everything in order, sir?”

Cody’s voice is quiet. Focused. And gentler than Satine ever expected of a Clone-Commander.

“General?”

Concern, in that small word Satine hates so much, because it is part of a world she refused to share. And Obi-Wan shudders, slightly, straightening and facing his commander.

“Yes, Cody”, he manages to say, very quietly. “Everything in order.”

A few seconds of silence, and then, the Commander’s voice rises once more, this time so soft that it is barely heard.

“General… Recent readings seem in favour of the second option we discussed. But I might be wrong. I hope I am wrong, sir.”

Obi-Wan shudders again, closing his eyes. And when he opens them once more, a rogue tear spills down his cheek, vanishing into his beard.

“No, Commander. I agree.

\- Sir… Should I – should I meet you, then? I am outside the Senate, as instructed.”

For a while, Obi just breathes. And then he nods, clearly unable to speak.

“On my way, General. Can you tell me where you are?”

Obi-Wan nods once more. But no words come out, and after a few seconds Satine finally dares to cross the few steps separating her from him.

“He is in the suite of Duchess Satine from Mandalore. With me, and Senators Bail Organa and Padmé Amidala.”

The Clone-Commander – _Cody_ – just bows, and his holo-figure vanishes, leaving them standing there. Obi-Wan is not looking at her, just breathes quietly, but Satine gently places a hand on his forearm, and he does not shake himself free.

“Obi-Wan, please… tell us what is going on. You cannot leave like that. You are barely able to stand.

\- What were those options you discussed, Obi-Wan?”, Bail asks, voice soft.

“Should I fetch Anakin, Obi-Wan?”, Padmé asks – and this seems to shake Obi-Wan from his dazed state.

“No. Please. Don’t. I can’t.”

Obi-Wan’s voice breaks on his last words, and that is when a knock is heard on Satine’s door, soon opening for Commander Cody. The clone has removed his helmet and, though his face is identical to all the clones out there, Satine instantly recognises him because of the scar on his temple, and the way he simply _looks_ at Obi-Wan.

“Duchess Satine. Senator Amidala. Senator Organa. General.”

Cody salutes, briefly, meeting their eyes with respect yet strength, and she instantly realizes that this clone – no, this _man_ – has a mind and a will of his own, despite his sense of duty. Protectiveness simmers behind his dark eyes, but his voice is carefully neutral as he asks:

“Are you still needed here, General?

\- No. I am not”, Obi-Wan answers, finally stepping away from Satine. “Bail, Padmé, Satine… It was wonderful to see you again.”

They are all too stunned to stop him. And so, they simply watch Obi-Wan take the steps separating him from his Commander, and the two men head for the door. Cody’s hand hovers behind Obi-Wan’s back, though, and he is ready when the Jedi’s knees buckle, catching him as he collapses towards the ground once more.

“That kriffing… _stubborn_ … _infuriating_ …”

Satine has never heard Bail stammer, but he does now, and Cody turns, Obi-Wan safely scooped up in his arms like it is _natural_ , raising an unimpressed eyebrow at his General, and at them.

“Permission to speak freely, Senator? _My thoughts exactly_.”

Obi-Wan groans, quietly, and Cody strides towards the couch, stretching him on the cushions with endearing care.

“General, situation two seems compromised. I think it is time for situation three, don’t you think?

\- There is no… situation three”, Obi-Wan rasps, eyes still closed and so, so pale.

“Begging to differ, General.”

Cody places a hand on Obi-Wan’s chest, very gently. And after a while, shakingly, Obi-Wan’s palm finds his and squeezes it, tightly.

“Commander Cody, what was situation two?”, Satine asks, very calmly – yet her heart bleeds, because she has the feeling she already knows.

The Clone commander raises his eyes, and they are very dark. Almost threatening – but this is merely concern, and Satine understands.

“Situation two was… pretexting an urgent motive allowing the General to withdraw from the Senate chambers. Preferably not alone.

\- And situation one?”, Bail asks, settling quietly on a chair with a sigh.

“Situation one was… not feeling the need to withdraw from the Senate chambers in a hurry.

\- Cody, don’t”, Obi-Wan whispers, but the Commander shakes his head, quietly, hand moving to the Jedi’s shoulder and squeezing.

“Situation one was being able to tell the General’s friends that he was sorry. That he missed them. That he needed them, just like they needed him. But we – the General especially – were not optimistic about that. So here I am.”

Silence falls as thick as a curtain, and then Cody asks, softly:

\- General Unduli…?

\- Away”, Obi-Wan whispers. “Couldn’t reach her. I miss her.

\- General Fisto?

\- Says we shouldn’t have been outvoted. I agree.

\- General Vos?

\- Doesn’t stop yelling. Says it should have been a Shadow.

\- General Skywalker? Commander Tano?”

Obi-Wan does not answer, this time, squeezing his eyes shut.

“And here, General? What about here?

\- It is _cloyed_ ”, Obi-Wan whispers. “It is always so… stifling. I couldn’t… couldn’t breathe. He was… speaking and I couldn’t breathe. I can’t stand the windows, in that office, either. They make me feel like I’m breaking inside. Like there is no hope. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t say anything. It made me feel… made me feel sick. I think I… needed a moment.”

Cody hums, quietly. His hand begins rubbing small circles into Obi-Wan’s chest and they watch their friend shudder, features relaxing slightly.

“That’s it, General. Take a moment. Get it out of your system.”

Slowly, Obi-Wan’s body seems to relax, fingers uncurling and face gently lolling to the side, lips slightly parted as sleep claims him. The Clone-Commander does not stop his movements, though, staying seated at his side.

“Is he high?”, Padmé finally asks, voice unusually small. “He _sounded_ high. Not like himself.

\- Master Ti calls this Force-exhaustion. It is a Jedi thing. General Kenobi tends to close his mind with the Force. When he is… empty, his hold loosens and he just… _talks_. He does not like that.

\- He has been quite lonely, has he not? Ever since that… mission”, Bail voices, carefully, and his words sound sad.

Cody looks up, dark eyes unreadable.

“Being High General of the GAR _is_ being lonely.

\- But we made it worse, didn’t we?”, Padmé asks. “We made him feel even more guilty than he already was. Because we were hurt. Anakin especially.

\- General Kenobi was _outvoted_ ”, Cody says, somewhat fiercely. “He did not volunteer for that mission. And though the General knew that faking his death with Commander Tano and General Skywalker present would sell the lie, he did not favour that option. He suggested staging it with us – with me. But the Chancellor and the Jedi Council argued against it.

\- The Chancellor?”, Satine blurts out, and Cody’s eyes meet hers.

“General Kenobi was not feeling well this morning. Our last mission was quite taxing and took a lot of his strength without time to recover. He knew, however, that he would meet with you, that General Skywalker would be present as well, and that the Chancellor would probably refer to the Rako Hardeen incident. And he was _anxious_.”

Accusation laces his last word, and Cody adds:

“That is why I suggested agreeing on _situations_.”

The beginning of a fond smile is playing on the Commander’s lips.

“It was quirky enough to settle him. The General loves coding.

\- That he does”, Bail throws in, quietly. “I am afraid I have not been explicit enough in telling him just how glad I am he is still among us.

\- As have I”, Padmé says, and there are tears in her eyes. “I will… I will try to speak to General Skywalker. He listens to me – _sometimes_. We will tell him Obi-Wan already left. We should leave Obi-Wan to his rest, Bail.

\- Indeed. When he is recovered, however – we would very much like to spend an evening with him. If it is possible, of course.”

Ere long, Satine is alone with Cody and Obi-Wan. She has sat down close to Obi-Wan’s head and is carding her hand through his hair, relieved to see he is no longer sweating, and that he is still sleeping soundly.

“Is he very angry with me, Commander Cody?”, she finally asks, voice low, and the Commander sighs, quietly.

“No, Duchess Satine. He is not. He is angry at himself. And sad. And… heartbroken, I think. But he says it is allowing him to _understand_. And that, as such, it should be embraced just as love and joy are.”

 _Oh, Obi’ka_.

“Do you think he… do you think he could… forgive me?”

Cody’s dark eyes bear into hers and she almost squirms, because his gaze is honest and somewhat fierce – and yet there is softness and love as well, carefully hidden behind gold and alabaster shields.

“I think this is what General Kenobi does best.”

She bears those words in mind, even after Cody is long gone. And when Obi-Wan finally wakes, confused and groggy but refreshed enough to be mostly aware of who he is facing, and what words he is hearing – she cuts his apologies by taking him into her arms.

He nestles against her, and she feels his thinness, the way he shivers against her because he is still Force-depleted and overwhelmed. But when their gazes finally meet, when she cups his face in her hands and kisses him, wordlessly but so, so lovingly – she can see that his eyes are no longer hollow and dull.

No longer dead mirrors, but warm with quiet hope.


End file.
